


a little bit in love

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Domestic, Dorks in Love, Drunken Shenanigans, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hand Jobs, Harry pulls out the 'I used to be a baker' line, Kitchen Sex, Louis wears Harry's clothes, Louis' shitty pancakes, M/M, Non-Graphic Smut, They live together deal with it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-02-17
Packaged: 2018-05-21 08:39:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6045127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He thinks that he’d like for Harry to hold him forever, inebriated or not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a little bit in love

**Author's Note:**

> This is just fluff. Enjoy.

Harry is drunk. His limbs feel heavy and he can’t think straight, but he can see Louis across the room and he knows he just has to make it _there_ , make it to Louis’ arms, and everything will feel alright again. He stumbles gracelessly towards his boy, falling into him, hands grabbing at Louis’ soft t-shirt. 

“M’drunk,” Harry hiccups, breath hot against Louis’ neck. Louis giggles, quite intoxicated himself (but more so off Harry than alcohol), and snakes his arms around Harry’s waist. It’s funny, how they always manage to find each other and fit so perfectly. The party they’re at is in full swing, a throng of other university students dancing around them in the crowded room, but as soon as Harry’s lips find Louis’ skin everything else ceases to exist. It’s just them. 

Harry’s head starts pounding and he groans, the sound low in his throat and in the shell of Louis’ ear. Louis takes that as a cue to tug Harry towards the door, saying a quick goodbye to Niall, the loud Irish kid stood on the coffee table playing air guitar, and thanking the hosts, Liam and Zayn, on their way out. Zayn gives Louis a thoughtful look, nodding towards Harry, who is clinging onto Louis and humming under his breath. “I know, mate.” Louis says, exasperated but endeared nonetheless, and leads Harry out of the door. 

The fresh air seems to sober Harry up, because when they’re halfway across campus, his footsteps become more coordinated and he isn’t holding onto his boyfriend for dear life anymore. Not that Louis minded that. The holding on for dear life. He thinks that he’d like for Harry to hold him forever, inebriated or not.

As they walk under the stars, hands clasped together, they talk out of their asses and Harry decides that 4am is his favourite time of day. Or night, morning, whatever. He feels light headed and fuzzy, but everything is so clear at the same time. He’s still drunk on beer - love, too, and he stops in his tracks to turn towards Louis and tell him he loves him. Louis looks at Harry like he hung the moon. He wants to give him everything he has and then some. “C’mon,” he breathes into the cool air, pulling Harry with him as he takes off in the direction of their flat.

They stumble through their front door ten minutes later, and Louis takes no time in pressing Harry against the mattress. They kiss until they’re breathless. Harry whines when Louis momentarily pulls away to yank his shirt off, but his eyes darken when he rakes them over the span of Louis’ bare chest, and he can’t help but lean up to lick over Louis’ sharp, tattooed collarbones. 

Louis knows what Harry needs and he fully intends on giving it to him, but for now, he’s taking it slow, appreciating every inch of his boy. “Please,” Harry begs. “ _Please_ , Lou, I want you.” 

“I know, baby,” Louis hums in response, fingers fumbling with the button on Harry’s skinny jeans. He pulls them off in a swift motion and throws them on the floor, and after that, their clothes pile up until their naked bodies are intertwined between the sheets and their hands are on each other’s cocks, stroking each other through their orgasms.

Harry falls asleep right after he comes, and though Louis had hoped for at least a shower, he settles instead for wiping his boyfriend down with a washcloth before crawling in bed beside him. Like clockwork, he wraps Harry up in his arms, the two of them fitting so perfectly just like they always have, and drifts off with his nose buried in Harry’s curls.

* * *

The sunlight streams through the blinds, casting shadows across the bright, messy room. The alarm clock reads 7:26AM, and it’s too early for Harry to even _think_ about getting out of bed. There’s only a trace of a hangover in his system, but he’s so grateful for the bottle of water Louis had left out on the bedside table, along with two painkillers, and he washes them down just for good measure. He doesn’t have a lecture this morning, thank _God_ , and Louis has one seminar in the afternoon, so they can laze around for a little while. He considers going back to sleep, but fond memories of dumb conversations and languid kisses and messy handjobs from last night distract him. His lips curl in a smile and he sighs softly, turning in Louis’ arms to face him. He really truly is gone on him. Harry loves Louis, probably more than he should, and he knows that he would give up everything if Louis asked him to. It’s terrifying; he’s only 19 and in his second year of uni, and Louis is 21, just about to graduate, and the future is unpredictable, but whatever his destiny, Louis is a part of it. That’s the only thing Harry is certain of.

Harry gets impatient soon enough, suddenly craving Louis’ attention, and so peppers Louis’ jaw with gentle kisses to rouse him from sleep. His lids flutter open, blue eyes meeting green, and his face softens when Harry whispers _good morning, love_. Louis stretches like a cat, arching his back as he kicks off the covers, and Harry crawls on top of him, straddling his legs. Louis runs his hands down Harry’s sides; he pinches the chub of Harry’s hips, traces his fingers over the inked ferns there, and settles his palms on Harry’s thighs.

“It’s early.”

Harry shrugs. “I know, but I missed you.”

Louis wants to roll his eyes, he really does, but his boy is _really_ fucking adorable. “I missed you too, you sap.”

Harry hums happily and bends down to plant an open mouthed kiss on Louis’ lips.

* * *

“I used to be a _baker_ , Louis." Harry deadpans. "Your pancakes are shit.”

Louis frowns at the pancakes on his plate. Okay, sure, they don’t look _that_ great, but he’s willing to bet they taste alright. 

Harry pulls a face as he cuts into the pancake, and then he shoves the fork in Louis’ direction, deciding that if anyone should die from Louis’ horrific cooking, it’s the man himself.

And, _fine_ , Louis’s pancakes _are_ shit. He’ll confess to that.

“Oh god, they taste bloody awful! Why did you let me make these, Harold?” Louis yells with laughter, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that Harry loves. Harry gives Louis a look that screams _I told you so_ before dumping the contents of the plate in the bin. 

It’s just gone midday, and they’ve finally dragged themselves out of the warmth of their bed and into the kitchen. The tiles are cold beneath Harry’s bare feet, and Louis is wearing Harry’s lavender sweater, even though Harry had warned him not to out of fear that he’d get pancake batter in the fabric. Luckily, he didn’t, or else he definitely would have been on laundry duty for at least the next month. 

“Do you want to go out for breakfast, babe? I mean, you ruined whatever chances we had at eating good food at home, so…” Harry teases, unable to hide the smirk on his face when Louis pouts playfully.

Louis hops onto the kitchen counter, legs dangling off the side, and Harry slithers in between them. Instinctively, Louis wraps his legs around Harry’s middle, pulling him in closer, and his fingers find themselves in Harry’s hair. “The cafe round the corner, yeah? Sounds lovely.”

Harry nods and turns his cheek to let Louis kiss it softly. “Yeah.”

They never do make it to the cafe. Instead, they end up on the kitchen floor, Louis in Harry’s lap, riding him slowly in nothing but his fluffy socks and Harry’s oversized sweater. And if Louis is late to his seminar, it’s definitely _not_ Harry’s fault.

**Author's Note:**

> My second fic! Another short and sweet one, but please feel free to leave kudos and comments. As always, I'm on [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/tinycurves) and [tumblr](http://meadowlwt.tumblr.com) if you want to say hi.


End file.
